


That's My Good Girl

by shrugheadjonesthethird



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Aftercare, Collars, Executive Betty, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kinky Fucks Discord, Leather, Light BDSM, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Professor Jones - Freeform, Restraints, Riverdale Kink Week, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, married bughead, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 06:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16113059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrugheadjonesthethird/pseuds/shrugheadjonesthethird
Summary: "How long have you been waiting here like this for me?" Jughead asked, his voice low, gravelly."Three hours, just as you said.""That's my good girl," he said tipping Betty's head up, eyes locked as he moved in for a kiss.





	That's My Good Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, I didn't intend to write anything for Kinkweek, but here I am, posting something I wrote for Kinkweek. For the record, this is ALL Sarah's (@theheavycrown) fault. She twisted my arm. 
> 
> Shout out to Lesley (@lesemme93) and Peyton (@peaceblessingspeyton) for being wonderful amazing humans and beta'ing this for me. 
> 
> This is my first crack at anything with even a little bit of kink to it, so be kind, I beg.

Her husband would be home at any moment and she had been waiting hours for his homecoming. 

She was kneeling on their bed in only his favorite lingerie and one of his work shirts, unbuttoned. Her hair was down in waves, just as he preferred, and her makeup was still intact from her work day, except for the new coat of pink lipstick, just as she was instructed to. Her knees were beginning to hurt from kneeling so long, but she knew it would be worth it. 

The moment she heard the key slide into the lock of the deadbolt her body began to tremble in anticipation as her senses began to heighten. She heard the squeak of the hinges and the soft closing of the door. She felt his presence around her before he was even in the room, the smell of his cologne wafting through her nose as he passed the bedroom door. 

She closed her eyes and waited, listening for him through the house before she finally heard her bedroom door creek open and the thwack of his shoulder against the doorframe echoing through her body.

Betty’s breathing was already erratic, the anticipation getting the better of her. She could feel her own wetness between her thighs as her eyes fluttered open to see Jughead still leaning against the doorframe, a cocky smile playing on his lips.

"How long have you been waiting here like this for me?" he asked, his voice low, gravelly.

He made his way over to the bed to meet her, placing his hands on either side of her spread knees -- just far enough that she could feel the heat of his skin but not close enough to touch.

"Three hours, just as you said."

"That's my good girl," he said, all his weight on one hand as the other guided her chin up, eyes locked as he moved in for a kiss. 

Betty whimpered at the chasteness of the kiss, already ready to beg to be touched in any way he saw fit. She’d been good, better than good. She tried to remain strong in the last few moments of her days long punishment. 

She may have sassed Jughead a little too much the week prior, earning her days of teasing to the point of torture. 

She always obeyed, until she didn’t. 

\--

_ She waited patiently for Jughead to let her come. She was growing more impatient by the second as he took his sweet time getting himself undressed from work. He’d teased her mercilessly, edging her close to release, but pulling away at the last possible second, leaving her a panting, writhing mess on their bed. She fought the urge to dip her fingers between her slick folds and fuck herself with her fingers. She knew it would be worth the teasing, it always was. _

_ She’d never deliberately disobeyed Jughead, no no. But she had a terrible day at work. Dealing with whiny executives was exhausting and all she had wanted to do was come home to relax with her husband. She was riled up when she got home, so when Jughead had suggested blowing off some steam, who was she to refuse such a generous offer.  _

_ He was taking longer than usual to get back to her, leaving her aching for what felt like hours, but it was only mere minutes. _

_ “Jesus Christ, Jughead. Would you get over here and fuck me already?” She realized her mistake as soon as the words left her lips. She was only meant to think them, not actually verbalize them. _

_ “Excuse me?” Jughead looked over his shoulder, his back to her, eyebrow raised the furthest Betty had ever seen it. _

_ “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a long day and--” _

_ “Three days.” _

_ Betty pouted. She knew exactly what he meant by that. He’d work her up as he saw fit, using her to get himself off, but teasing her relentlessly within an inch of her own nirvana only to snatch it away from her over and over again. _

_ It wasn’t that Jughead particularly liked doing it, but when they first began exploring their kinks, they’d created ground rules that went for either one of them. While Jughead was usually the dominant in their sexual relationship, they did, on occasion, switch.  _

_ If either, as a sub, were excessively sassy or bratty, the punishment would be three days of orgasm denial. Three excruciating days of edging to the brink. Three harrowing days of building the anticipation to come again. They’d done excessive research for health risks and talked to other people in the BDSM community to get their footing. _

_ He turned to her fully now, his shirt completely unbuttoned, his belt buckle undone. He’d stopped getting undressed when she spoke out of turn. He bounded toward the bed. _

_ “Please, Mr. Jones. I’ll be good,” she was begging, wanting to hear that she was his good girl more than anything in that moment. _

_ “It’s too late for that, kitten. But, I think you know that.” his grin was devilish, nearly lethal.  _

_ He ran his fingers down her bare chest, avoiding the places he knew she wanted him to touch. He palmed her rib cage sliding his hands down to her hips. He squeezed slightly at them as she bucked her hip into his touch.  _

_ He plunged two fingers into her aching heat without warning, her hips pushing off the mattress at the sensation. He pumped them in and out of her quickly until he could feel her body begin to shake under his touch. _

_ “Please, Mr. Jones,” Betty begged, hoping to appeal to the reasonable side of her husband. _

_ Just as her walls tightened around his fingers, he extracted them, leaving Betty dripping and frustrated.  _

_ “Three days, kitten,” he said walking away, licking his fingers on his way out the door.  _

_ It clicked shut behind him as Betty lay panting, stewing in her own frustrations. She knew better than to touch herself, as easy as it would be to slip her finger down and rub circles around her sensitive bundle of nerves, he’d know. He always did.  _

_ She did this to herself and she’d live with the consequences, no matter how much it drove her to the brink of insanity.  _

_ Even worse than being denied her orgasm, was the attention deprivation.  _

_ When she was punished, after he was content in teasing her, he’d leave the room, going to read in the living room or watch a movie while she stayed, left to sit and think of her indiscretions.  _

_ He’d always come back, and when he did, he’d rub soft slow circles on her back, whispering his love for her across her shoulders, lulling her to sleep. It  _ almost _ made it worth it.  _

\--

The kiss left her wanting more. Three days always felt like an eternity. She wanted to feel his skin on hers, feel him against her, inside of her. 

“Now, kitten,” Jughead started, loving how Betty’s body reacted to just her nickname, “have you been good during your punishment?”

Betty nodded. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Mr. Jones.”

“What a good girl you’ve been for me. Are you ready for it to be over?”

“Yes, Mr. Jones.”

He nodded his head slightly, pulling away from the bed. He stopped at their dresser and leaned down slowly, letting Betty watch as his body folded nearly in half as he reached into the bottom drawer where they kept their leather.

He pulled her collar, slick black leather with silver hardware and the matching wrist restraints slowly from their home. He dangled the collar from his index finger, letting it sway in front of him, waiting for Betty’s approval. He always made sure she was okay with what he had planned. 

Betty dragged her eyes to the dangling leather and her lips quirked up as she nodded.Her nonverbal consent was enough for Jughead to straighten himself back up and return to her side. 

He brushed the hair from around her shoulder so it was all at her back. Next, he unbuckled the collar and fed it behind her neck and buckled it in front, gliding two fingers between the leather and her alabaster skin to ensure it wasn’t too tight. He gave it a soft tug watching Betty shut her eyes at the sensation as a satisfied hum emanated from her throat.

He stroked at her collarbones and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“That okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she nearly purred. 

His hands traveled from her throat to her chest, palming over the lace of her bra before sliding the shirt down her back, straps down her shoulders and reaching to unclasp the three hooks at the center of her back. He discarded the clothing across the room. 

He unbuckled the wrist restraints and slipped them around her outstretched appendages, attaching the extra band of leather around her thumbs. She nodded her approval and he smiled in return. She wasn’t the biggest fan of this particular binding, but she knew after a punishment, Jughead wanted to do the work. He wanted her pleasure to come solely from him. 

She stroked her bound hands across his cheek.

“Now, kitten,” Jughead said, his voice low and authoritative, “I want you to tell me what you want.” His breath was hot at the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“I want,” she swallowed thickly, the air filled with their tension. “You, Mr. Jones.”

Jughead stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “Anything for my good girl.” 

Betty’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch against her cheek. She turned her face into his hand, missing these small moments of intimacy. 

Jughead curved his index finger through the silver loop of her collar and tugged slightly moving her away from his hand. She whined at the loss of contact and huffed slightly.

He pulled her legs from under her, his hands behind her knees, inching her toward the edge of the bed. He caressed her thighs, slowly pushing her legs open and stretching them from the hours she’d been kneeling.

His hands trailed up her thighs toward the white lace of her panties.

“You know these are my favorite.”

“That’s why I wore them,” she smirked.

She wished she could trail her hands through his hair, damning the restraints against her wrists. 

Jughead knew how much she loved sinking her fingers into his locks and took that from her, an added punishment. He slipped his thumbs under them and slipped them slowly down her legs.

Betty lifted her hips to help him glide them down passed her knees and Jughead threw them across the room, joining the rest of the discarded clothes. He spread her legs again, taking a good long look at what was hidden beneath the lace. 

Jughead bit his lip seeing how wet she was already. Three days of denial on top of anticipation had her nearly dripping. He licked his lips contemplating his plan of attack. He knew the longer he stared at her, the more riled up she’d be. It wouldn't be long until she was begging.

He leaned forward again, claiming Betty’s mouth in a bruising kiss. He didn't waste any time, letting his tongue explore her mouth, a growl ripping from his chest into her mouth.

His hands gripped into her hair tugging slightly, exposing the creamy skin of her neck before his kisses ascended the column of her throat. He nipped and sucked on the way down, listening to her whimper.

He pulled her up by the collar, his other hand on her shoulder guiding her to a seated position. 

He hit the sweet spot at her collarbone and a moan came tumbling from her lips -- music to his ears. 

He stepped back from her, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath she took as he discarded his own clothing painfully slowly, knowing she was watching him. He turned around slipping the shirt from his back, flexing his muscles a little more than usual, knowing how she’d react to it.

Betty watched as he removed his clothing, it was pure torture.She loved to unbutton his shirt one button at a time. Loved the sound the zipper of his pants descending and subsequently, the plop of the fabric hitting the floor. 

She could see the bulge in his boxers as he turned around, already turned on. She bit her lip as he sauntered back to her, his hands behind his back and a playful grin on his face. Her legs were still spread as an open invitation for him to place himself between them.

He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, his face now level with her aching sex. He leaned forward slightly, his breath so hot on her he could see the goosebumps forming. He was slow and calculated as he kept his hands behind his back, licking his lips a breath away from where she wanted him.

His tongue shot out of his mouth and against her slick folds. One. Two. Three. A shocked, stuttering gasp coming from her lips each time. It took three slow and steady swipes of his tongue before her ankles crossed behind his back in attempts to keep him there. 

Betty’s arms rocketed up in the air, grasping at nothing as she tried to focus on the pleasure her husband’s tongue was giving her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but the cuffs made it difficult, unsatisfying. She settled, eventually, for lacing her fingers together, gripping her own flesh.

Jughead continued to lick his way through her folds, ignoring her clit for the time being. He plunged his tongue into her opening and Betty’s hips buckled at the intrusion. He thought about throwing his arm over her hips to keep her still, but he didn’t want to take everything she loved from her. He’d let her have this one.

Her hips moved in time with his tongue, moans dripping from her mouth. 

“Fuck,” she gasped when he finally enveloped her clit with his lips and began sucking tirelessly at it. 

He didn’t stay there long, much to Betty’s dismay. She could feel his tongue everywhere all at once. He trailed kisses up her stomach, working his way from his knees to a standing position.

He gave a gentle tug on the collar, before dropping his boxers to the heap of clothing on the floor and settling between her legs again. He began his descension once more, paying closer attention to her breasts than he had previously.

His tongue swirled around her nipples, the hard peaks tightening under his tongue and teeth. He could hear her breathing ragged above him. He abandoned her nipple with an audible pop as he claimed her mouth again. He bit at her lower lip, prying it away from her teeth, nibbling gently as she sighed in pleasure.

She looped the space between her cuffed wrists around his neck, keeping him at her mouth. She kissed him soundly, feeling his groan reverberate throughout her body. 

His hands traveled up her arms to her wrists. His fingers moved deftly over the buckle.

“Do you think you’ve been punished enough?”

“Yes,” she whispered softly against his mouth. “Please?”

“Oh, my sweet Betty,” he said as he unbuckled her wrists and laced his fingers through hers, and pinning her arms at her side. 

He pressed his hips into hers, a soft moan emanating from her throat. He repeated his actions, knowing the teasing would eventually get to her.

“Juggie,” she whined squeezing her hands against his, her hips meeting his as his cock missed her opening.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that patience is a virtue?” he teased with not only his words, his cock at her opening, only slightly inside of her.

Betty freed her hands from his and clutched at his hair, pulling him in for a fiery kiss. It was desperate and hungry. She’d had enough teasing, but she knew that Jughead knew that.

He found his way into her quickly, their mouths still attached, his throat catching her moans and throwing them right back to her. Their pace was slow, not wanting their intimacy to end too quickly.

Even at their slow pace, it didn’t take long for Betty to feel the pleasure build in her toes and flow through her. Part of her was convinced he’d stop again, just for a bit more torture. What she didn’t expect was for him to pick up the pace, slamming his hips into hers, his grip at her hips nearly bruising before moving his thumb to her clit and swiping fervently at it. 

Betty clenched down on his cock still pumping inside of her, the pleasure now at the tops of her ears, an electric current of ecstasy pulsing through her. 

She couldn’t control her volume, the pleasure too intense to even think. She shut her eyes tight, feeling the white hot burst of bliss take her over. She panted and moaned his name like it was the only thing she could remember. 

Between how wet she was and her moaning his name and the sheer anticipation of her pleasure, Jughead was done for within a few more thrusts, his own release finding its way through him, more intense than usual. 

They stayed joined together as their breathing remained labored. Betty attempted to speak, but her words were incoherent. Jughead laughed to himself. He’d successfully fucked her silly, as he’d threatened to do in the past. 

He pulled himself from her still panting body. He crossed the room for a towel to clean themselves up. He was tender with her, he always was, but more so after the intensity that denial brought them.

“Sit up, baby,” Jughead said, urging Betty to sit up. 

He removed the collar from her neck and soothed the pink skin underneath it. He handed her some water he’d brought into the bedroom with him when he got home and goaded her to sip it slowly. 

He stroked her cheek gently.

“Hungry?”

“Famished.” Betty admitted. 

“What’re you thinkin’, the usual?” Betty nodded, a huge smile on her face.

She loved post-coital dinner. Grilled cheese on rye bread, not too dark on both sides. It was her favorite. She’d always pretend to be full and feed him the last few bites of her sandwich, careful not to get crumbs on the sheets. 

“Thank you, Juggie.” Betty said as she settled into his side. 

His fingers danced across her bare skin in unintelligible patterns, getting lost in her as he often did. 

“I love you, Mrs. Jones,” he winked at her before kissing her soft and slow.

**Author's Note:**

> Jughead loves his wife. I wish my fiancé would make me grilled cheese post sex. That would be amazing. Anyway, I digress. 
> 
> Let me know what you think. As always, feedback is appreciated! <3 -- find me on the tumbles @shrugheadjonesthethird


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